


Backbone

by Laylah



Category: Kamen Rider Amazons (2016)
Genre: Canon Trauma, Comfort, M/M, Mutual Support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-14
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-09-08 12:28:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8845030
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laylah/pseuds/Laylah
Summary: Shidou keeps the team going. Fuku tries to return the favor.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [borrowedphrases](https://archiveofourown.org/users/borrowedphrases/gifts).



Shidou's only been gone from the force for a week, maybe two, when he gets in touch with Kouta. He's terse on the phone, says there's an offer he'd like to make but it'd have to be in person. Says he thinks it'd be worth Kouta's time. He's always been a good judge of risks.

Kouta meets him in a bar just a little way from the station after he gets off duty for the night. "Good to see you," he says.

Shidou smiles, but it doesn't touch his eyes. "You say that now."

Kouta orders a beer he probably won't finish. "What's this offer, then?"

"I got recruited to head up a team," Shidou says, slowly, like he's picking his words carefully, like the wrong ones would blow up in his face. "For a private company. Threat extermination."

The things elided in those words give Kouta chills. He rolls the beer back and forth between his hands, thinking about it. He has to ask. "These threats. They're people?"

Shidou takes a long drink before he says, "They're not human." He scrubs at his face. "I'm not allowed to disclose a lot and I don't know much, anyway. They're not telling me any more than they have to. But I can tell you I wouldn't be doing this if it meant targeting humans."

"I didn't think you would," Kouta says. One of the things you learn in police work is that you never know people as well as you think; they can always surprise you with what they'll do. But he wouldn't have expected Shidou to cross that line. "Why me?"

"I need a sniper, and you need money."

Kouta winces, but he can't deny it. "It pays well, this threat extermination business."

Shidou tells him how well.

There's no way this job is anything good. Still, what Kouta says is, "Let me think about it," because the fees at the nursing home keep going up and he's barely scraping by, and he's not sure how many more ways he can cut expenses.

"Do that," Shidou says. "It's going to take a while to get a group together." No hard sell, no deadline, no push. Just that measured, quietly certain look like he knows what Kouta's decision will ultimately be.

* * *

He's right. A few weeks later Kouta joins the Nozama Peston Team with Shidou and a couple of young guys who are still learning how to shoot. It's partly about the money. It's partly about the fact that Kouta's not getting any younger, and one of these days he'd wind up shuffled over to a desk job, like Shidou was, so some twenty-two-year-old kid could take over for him. And it's partly about plain curiosity: what kind of threats are they talking about? What the hell could be going on here that would need an extermination team with special forces training to fix?

The one grainy surveillance video the company provides doesn't clear things up much. Whatever they're looking at isn't human, sure, but it's awfully hard to tell what it _is_.

"Bio-weapons," says one of the kids, sounding excited. Ootaki. "They tried to engineer supersoldiers and it went horribly wrong."

"You get that idea from a video game?" Shidou asks.

Ootaki doesn't even look chagrined. "Maybe, yeah."

Shidou rolls his eyes but nobody has any better ideas.

They learn a little more the first time they get called up to do an extermination. The things they're fighting—the investigation team calls them Amazons; Shidou just calls them vermin—are close to human size. They have too many legs. They can take far too many bullets before they go down. And when they finally actually die, they melt into a sticky black sludge that would be right at home in one of Ootaki's video games.

The team gets a bounty—the company calls it a termination bonus—for killing it. They pick up a lot of booze on the way back to the Inoue Building, and if anyone's drinking so they'll be able to sleep, they don't say so.

* * *

They take on a few more recruits. There's Takai, who's barely an adult but twice as serious as Ootaki or Maehara, and there's Misaki, who's apparently Kouta's age but acts more like a teenager. Then there's Mamoru.

"No," Shidou says when the company suit brings him in.

"I understand your hesitation," the suit says. "However—"  
"He's a _kid_ ," Shidou bites out. "I'm not teaching a kid how to kill." 

"Mamoru." The suit takes a step back. "Show them, please."

The kid takes a deep breath, then lets it out in a long yell, grabbing hold of his sleeves and tearing his shirt open. The air around him heats, steams, clouding their view—and when it clears he's a hulking, armored monster.

Kouta swears, diving for his rifle. Shidou already has his pistol drawn and aimed. But the monster—the kid—isn't attacking. He's just standing there waiting, watching them with his strange transformed eyes.

"You said you wanted another close-combat specialist," the suit says. "Mamoru has the strength to take these targets on."

Mamoru steams again, transforming back into a skinny bare-chested boy, his eyes wide and his mouth curved in a hesitant smile.

Shidou holsters his gun. "You want to fight monsters, kid?"

"I want to be part of the team," Mamoru says earnestly.

"What do you get out of it?" Shidou asks.

"I get to make friends," Mamoru says. "And I get all the hamburgers I want."

"Hamburgers," Shidou repeats.

Mamoru nods.

Shidou pulls the suit aside to ask more questions in hushed tones. Misaki ambles over and starts trying to make friends with Mamoru. Kouta goes back to his book, but he's not really paying attention to it. 

When the suit leaves, Mamoru stays. Early as it is, Shidou cracks open a beer. Kouta gives him a few minutes to get through a decent fraction of it, then goes over there to sit next to him. "The kid stays," he observes.

Shidou nods. "The kid stays."

Kouta tries to figure out how to phrase _why?_ without it sounding like he's second-guessing Shidou's decision.

"Because he doesn't have anywhere else to go," Shidou says after the silence has stretched on for a long moment. "No family to go back to, and... look at him." Mamoru is laughing at something Misaki said to him, vibrant and delighted. "That asshole made it sound like they'd just be dumping the kid on the street if we couldn't use him."

"When he has a power like that?" Kouta says skeptically.

"It was bullshit, yeah." Shidou drains the rest of his beer and crushes the can. "But that's the kind of attitude he had. Like the kid doesn't matter. At least here... It's ridiculous to say this is protecting him, I know."

"No, I understand." Kouta always thought he was the soft-hearted one; it's somehow charming to realize that Shidou can have a soft spot for something small and cute, too. "If he's here, we can keep an eye on him. Help him be part of the team."

"Right," Shidou says. "He might have to face trouble with us, but someone will always have his back."

* * *

The team comes together pretty well. Mamoru's the kid brother they all need, his enthusiasm and energy giving the rest of them focus. They get more casual with each other than Kouta ever was with his team on the force. Within a few weeks they're almost all using each other's personal names. Shidou's still Shidou to Kouta, though, and Kouta's still Fuku to him, just like always. It's what feels right.

They have a couple of weeks to train and then they get called out on their second extermination. It goes better than the first one, even though Kazuya is sick afterward. Nozomi gives him shit for that in the van on the way back, while Mamoru tries to convince her to cut it out. Up front, Shidou looks like he might almost be content.

"Not bad for a bunch of amateurs, huh?" Kouta says.

Shidou glances over at him and nods. "So far, so good."

Kouta smiles. High praise, where Shidou's concerned. They just might be able to make this thing work.

* * *

They say you can get used to anything. Kouta's not sure that's true—the hunts themselves don't get any easier to stomach—but they do get used to the routine, living together, training together, being each other's company. Nozomi picks on Mamoru in an affectionate sort of way. Kazuya makes friends with everyone, whether he's losing at chess with Jun or asking questions about Kouta's current novel. Jun... might be nursing a crush on Ryuusuke, and if Kouta has noticed that then Shidou definitely has. But it's not like there are rules against fraternization here.

And Shidou... Well. If Mamoru is the team's heart, then Shidou is its backbone. He smiles rarely and relaxes almost never. But he keeps the team running, teaches the others to handle their weapons well enough to survive, argues with Nozama's brass about getting them the compensation they deserve, shuts down pointless arguments before they can get too heated—all the thankless but crucial work of managing the rest of them and making the team succeed. Kouta tries to support him. It's nothing as official as being his lieutenant but the idea's more or less the same.

The rest of them seem to be doing well under his leadership, too. With the possible exception of Nozomi, none of them are the kind of people who would have wound up on the force, but they're adapting, and maybe Shidou is too. It's working. They're learning how to support each other. They develop a solid track record, putting down whatever the investigation team uncovers. They're doing pretty well, really, for a team of half-trained mercenaries fighting in secret against things that shouldn't exist.

So of course it all goes to hell.

* * *

Kouta misses half of what happens in the fight where Ryuusuke turns because he's face down on the ground and scared to death he's bleeding out. Nozama's medics tell him later it's not as bad as it looks, and it's sure as hell not as bad as it feels, but it's still bad enough. He gets stitches and bandages and some painkillers that don't work as well as they could but don't knock him out, either. What he doesn't get is a stay in the hospital.

Shidou checks in with him when they get back, squatting next to him where he sits with his back to the wall. "How are you doing?"

Everything hurts and he'll probably get the shakes again if he thinks about how close he came to irreparable damage. "They tell me I'll live," Kouta says.

"You'd better," Shidou says. "I need you."

That doesn't sound like _I need a sniper_. It sounds more personal than that. Is that just wishful thinking? "You've got me."

Shidou's hand rests briefly on his knee, squeezes once. "Good. Rest while you can. This thing isn't over."

Kouta's knee is warm where Shidou touched him. It feels like the warmth lingers well after Shidou has moved on.

* * *

Then they lose Jun on top of Ryuusuke. Kouta shouldn't be drinking with his injury still fresh but after what they just watched there's no way he wants to lie awake all night replaying the scene in his head. When the bottle of vodka comes around, he takes as deep a swig as anyone.

This wasn't supposed to happen. They were doing well together. They had a routine, a system, a way to take the vermin down without anyone getting hurt too badly—and now it's fallen apart, overwhelmed by too many things going wrong at once. Mamoru's the only one who actually cries but all of them feel the same way.

Late in the evening, when the others have passed out, Kouta shifts over to sit next to Shidou. He still has to move carefully because of his injury but it feels important to be close. "It's not your fault," he says.

"Bullshit." Shidou finishes yet another beer and drops the can on the floor with the rest. "I'm responsible for my team."

That's true, but it's not the whole truth. Kouta tries to think through the liquor haze to put the words in the right order. "I've known you for years," he says. "Even before this thing started. And you've never taken stupid risks, especially with other people's lives."

"Except for taking this job," Shidou says.

"We all made that mistake ourselves," Kouta says. "You don't get to take the blame for everyone."

He can see Shidou struggling to find a way to make it his own fault anyway. He gets it. Jun and Ryuusuke were both good kids, and hell, Jun was barely twenty and brilliant. That's a hell of a loss.

Eventually Shidou sighs. "I get what you're trying to tell me. And I'm not going to fall apart. I know the team needs me to hold it together."

Kouta shakes his head. "I know you know that." He reaches out and rests his hand on Shidou's shoulder. "I'm worried about you being okay, too."

"I'm not okay," Shidou says. "None of us are okay tonight." He puts his hand over Kouta's. "But I'll get by."

* * *

Adding Haruka to the team is both a good thing and a bad thing. Good in that they need the firepower, given how many Amazons are awakening this year; bad in that their new firepower is a loose cannon. Shidou doesn't trust him, and Kouta can see why: Haruka acts on his feelings, and this is an unforgiving job that doesn't have room for that kind of impulsive behavior.

They do need him, though, so they wind up taking him back no matter how many times Shidou tries to send him away. "It's going to fuck us up eventually," Shidou tells Kouta one evening, watching Haruka and Mamoru share a meal. "He's not the kind of person you want at your back."

"I know," Kouta says. "Taking him on is risky but sending him away would be, too."

"I can't tell which is the more irresponsible choice." Shidou smiles wryly. "Running this outfit is a shitty job sometimes."

Kouta leans against his side, shoulder to shoulder with him. "You're doing better at it than you think you are."

* * *

Thank god he doesn't try to blame himself for Sigma. That's a big enough mess already.

* * *

Even the worst nightmare has a climax, a point where things hit bottom. After Tlaloc—after Mamoru—the last three members of the team pace in the hallway outside Kazuya's operating room until a doctor comes and tells them to go home. Kazuya's going to live, but they're keeping him for a while.

Kouta doesn't think he'll be able to sleep when they get back to the Inoue Building. The memories are too fresh, too raw. Kazuya sobbing and begging him not to shoot. The overwhelming smell of blood in the dark. Mamoru still chewing.

Shidou pulls a futon up next to his and lies down beside him, draping an arm over his middle. Nozomi, on the other side of the room, either doesn't notice or pretends not to. Shidou doesn't say anything, and Kouta doesn't ask him why, just leans into him and lets the shakes come. Eventually he manages to fall asleep.

In the morning, Nozomi gets dressed to go out. "Call if you need me," she says. "Otherwise I'll be back tonight."

It feels weird, having just the two of them there after she leaves. Too quiet. "You have anyplace you want to go?" Shidou asks. "Doubt they'll have anything for us when they're still cleaning up from yesterday."

Kouta shakes his head. "Not today," he says. He doesn't think he can handle being around people who don't understand right now.

Shidou nods. He's still in arm's reach. Kouta leans against him. Shidou pulls him close again.

From there it's easy to wind up kissing, just a slow shift and press that's so straightforward Kouta wonders why it took this long. It feels good. Comfortable. Like a relief, to do something this ordinary and human after the nightmare of their lives hit fever pitch.

He pulls back. "Tell me you're not just doing this to help me cope."

"I wouldn't pull that shit with you," Shidou says.

"Okay," Kouta says. "Good." He leans back in, pressing his lips to Shidou's, closing his eyes. He doesn't need some kind of romantic confession, can't imagine Shidou giving one. This is enough: they're there for each other, not just because they have to be, but because they want to. Shidou's fingers thread through his hair and something unknots in his chest, a little of this terrible tension easing.

Neither of them is in a hurry. They're not desperate kids. They're quiet, and slow, and when their clothes finally come off Shidou's hands are gentle against Kouta's scars. It's not even about getting off as much as it's just about _feeling_ , about helping each other have something good for once.

They spend the whole day together. By the time Nozomi gets back, late in the evening, Kouta feels more or less like a real person again. It may not be why Shidou did it, but it worked.

* * *

Getting severance is a relief. They did it. Despite the odds, despite the casualties, despite all the ways the campaign went wrong—they did it. They exterminated the threat they were hired for.

He wonders if he'll ever see Shidou again.

* * *

It's a combat instinct that makes Kouta look up—in the nursing home, of all places—to find Shidou waiting for him on the other side of the partition glass. When he sees Kouta notice him, he holds up one of the good-luck charms Kazuya made for them all with Mamoru's coins. Kouta knows instantly: it's Mamoru's charm.

He meets Shidou out in the hallway. Shidou holds out a hand, the coin charm clasped tightly in it. He looks tired. He looks determined.

"It's not over," Kouta says. He puts his hand over Shidou's, wrapped around the coin.

"We couldn't be that lucky," Shidou says.

Kouta takes a deep breath, thinking about everything they've been through in the past two years. All the impossible things they've faced, all the times they shouldn't have made it out alive. All the things he thought he was finally free of.

He squeezes Shidou's hand, holding on tight. "Whatever it takes. I'm with you to the end."


End file.
